I STOOD IN THE LINGERIE STORE AND COULD NOT TOUCH ANYTHING

Dear Delyara, I had my left breast removed four months ago. Today was the first time I went shopping for a bra. The saleswoman was kind. Too kind, almost. She spoke softly and showed me a section with pockets for prostheses. Beige, white, black. Functional. Sensible. Medical-looking. Before cancer, I used to buy red bras. Bright red. Lace. Completely impractical. I saw one hanging across the aisle today. For one second, I reached toward it. Then I remembered there was nothing on my left side for it to hold. I locked myself in the fitting room and sat on the little bench with six beige bras in my lap. My husband keeps telling me he is grateful I’m alive. I am grateful too. But I don’t know why surviving has made me feel as though I’m no longer allowed to mourn the woman whose body did not survive with me. I left without buying anything. At home, I put on the old stretched sports bra I have been wearing since surgery. It hurts under my arm. I didn’t tell anyone.